Corruption
by WastefulReverie
Summary: After the reveal, all Mikey wanted was to be just like Danny. With a little research and some fortunate timing, he figures out a way to turn his dream into a reality. He'll do anything to become a hero, no matter what the cost. Oneshot for Ectober Week 2018.


**Day Four: Corruption**

 **Words: 11745**

* * *

Ever since Danny revealed his secret, Phantom had become even more of an aspiration for the citizens of Amity Park, especially for the teens of Casper High. There was such a perceptional shift among Danny's peers, the realization that the underachiever had once been just like them, and that by some means, he'd been willing to sacrifice everything to do what he did as Phantom. He couldn't get good grades anymore because of ghosts, and after he was given amazing physical abilities, he refrained from using them to stand up for himself because that wouldn't be fair to the other students.

A true, hero. Danny Fenton, half-ghost hero of Amity Park, was someone that everyone could look up to.

Mikey definitely looked up to him, in ways that most others probably didn't, but to him, Danny was the ideal good samaritan, someone who could truly protect and lead with a humble face (and that classic Phantom snark). He was Mikey's idol; Mikey wanted to be just like him. And as time went on, Mikey felt like he needed to be just like him.

Sure, Danny was someone Mikey had known all of his life, and throughout the years, they were initially on good terms. But now he regrets that he never really got to be close with him, because now that everyone knows he's Phantom, it's like his friend group is extremely closed off. Everyone is a fan, meaning that there's a lot of competition for his attention, so even when it's people Danny has known all his life, he's not going to get close to someone new very easily, because chances are, he's aware that in the minds of many of them, he's just some celebrity. And if there's one thing that's been made clear since the reveal, Danny isn't exactly comfortable with his constant fame. Therefore, Mikey's just as distant from Danny as everyone else in Casper High; sure, they both know each other, but Danny is still a world away.

Mikey couldn't be one of Danny's best friends. And he still wanted to be exactly like Danny. At the beginning of Junior year, about six months after the reveal, Mikey couldn't bear it any longer. He'd become the same as Danny, because deep down, Mikey just needed the clarification that he could be a hero too. So that meant that Mikey had to figure out how to get powers, which was definitely the most difficult part about becoming a superhero.

He knew that Danny been made into Phantom through some accident in his parents' lab. Publicly, that was the only information anyone had about how he had become half-ghost, so there wasn't a lot for Mikey to go on. However, Mikey was smart, he knew how to read in between the lines. He didn't need to know what kind of accident Danny was in, nor what invention had turned him into Phantom. The answer was simple, and it was there all along: ectoplasm.

All ghosts were made of ectoplasm, right? And from common knowledge about ghost weaponry, Mikey knew that most of the Fentons' inventions functioned by using ectoplasmic power. Therefore, one would assume, that some kind of invention safely introduced ectoplasm into Danny's body through an accident, permanently altering him, and turning him into a half-ghost hybrid. So with that information, all Mikey had to do was figure out how to get enough ectoplasm into his body to turn him half-ghost without killing him first.

He thought about it for a while and did some research about the risks of ectoplasmic poisoning. There weren't many articles about it anywhere, and the only known case Mikey could really find was Vlad Masters... who, 'ding ding ding!', also ended up becoming a half-ghost. Except, unlike Danny, he suffered a condition called 'ecto-acne' for many years, before making some kind of miraculous recovery, checking himself out of the hospital, and almost instantly becoming rich. At the time, most people assumed that Vlad had earned his fortune by making some well-placed deals with CEOs and other millionaires, but ever since the truth had been exposed, everyone knew that Vlad had used his powers to steal that money.

Vlad Masters was the case that proved that Mikey could accomplish turning himself into a ghost hybrid by slowly exposing his body to ectoplasm. It didn't kill Vlad, so if Mikey did it carefully, then what were the chances that it would kill him? Mikey was smart, he would know if he got in over his head. Besides, all he had to do was find a way to obtain ectoplasm and then gradually condition his body to accept it.

So, just like that, Mikey embarked on a mission to find out where to find or buy ectoplasm. However, much to his annoyance, ectoplasm wasn't just something that you could find on Amazon very easily. He had to do some deep digging, without raising suspicion, and even then, Mikey found nil. So he turned to his next option; he'd ask someone who was experienced with ectoplasm. He needed someone who was close to Danny, but someone that Mikey who could still approach without any awkwardness. And that person just happened to be none other than Tucker Foley.

"Hey, Tucker," Mikey put on a false smile, cornering the tech-laden boy near his locker. Sam was with him today, but she didn't seem to acknowledge Mikey's presence. Actually, the black circles under her eyes today looked less like a fashion statement, and more like a concerning lack of sleep. He'd heard that she'd been going on more patrols with Danny lately, but he didn't really realize that they made a person _that_ exhausted.

"Oh," Tucker turned to him, "hi, Mikey. What's up?"

"I – uh, I was just wondering if I could ask you a question. It's kind of for an experiment, and I guess I know that you'd know about it so..."

"Sure," he shrugged. "What kind of experiment? What d'you need?"

"I was thinking about doing something with ectoplasm. Nothing much, really, just to test out different properties and compare them. But... I don't really know anywhere to get it..."

Tucker blinked as if he was trying to make sure that he'd heard Mikey correctly. "Ectoplasm?"

"Uh, yeah," Mikey fidgeted. "You guys are pretty much the experts with that stuff, and I didn't really know who else to ask-"

"Mikey," he interrupted. "You realize that stuff is like... really dangerous, right?"

"I didn't think that-"

"No," Tucker said. "I've seen a lot of people try to play with ectoplasm, and it doesn't go well. Even the Fentons end up harming themselves a lot with it, and I can guarantee for a fact that organizations like the Guys in White and Axion have made _a lot_ of mistakes. I know the pursuit of science is exciting, but no one should really be messing with that stuff outside of a professional environment. That's like... a kid our age trying to play with Uranium." He turned to his accomplice. "Right, Sam?"

She was leaned up against the lockers, eyes heavy, trying to act awake. "Right," she mumbled.

"I've also been tempted," Tucker admitted. "So I get it. But it's not always worth it. I mean, Danny only became half-ghost because the three of us were screwing around in the first place. I'm sorry to sound like the safety police or anything, but it's just how it is."

"I – I get it," Mikey nodded, ashamedly walking away. Tucker's explanation did little to dissuade him, however, instead, it only further convinced him that he was on the right track. Who cared if it was dangerous? It was the only thing that would allow him to be like Danny, and Tucker had even said it himself! ' _Danny only became half-ghost because we were screwing around'._

If anything, Mikey wasn't stopping now. So, he decided to look for alternative solutions, which is what eventually ended up leading him to Amity's local occult bookshop, the Skulk and Lurk. He figured that ectoplasm was a paranormal substance right? Yeah, it's scientific, but that doesn't make it any less paranormal, so maybe he could find some kind of recipe to actually make it or something.

So, he ended up talking to the assistant manager, Spike, who was happy – not really happy, depressingly eager? – to assist him.

"That sounds wicked, man," Spike agreed. Mikey couldn't help but stare at the Goth's gaudy nosering and tried to pretend he was looking into his eyes instead. "But I don't think we can do any of that stuff legally, 'cause like... I think it's technically radioactive? All I know is that a year ago, the Guys in White came in here and put a recall on some kind of book they published because it was 'too risky for public knowledge'. Really fuckin' sketchy, I'll tell you that."

"That's nuts," Mikey said.

"Yeah," Spike nodded. "What else is new, huh? Anyway, since you probably won't find anything on how to physically make ectoplasm, I can still help you find stuff about ghosts, since it's our most popular section, after all."

Mikey had already done extensive research on ghosts themselves, and at this point, all he really needed was the ectoplasm. "I think I'm fine, thank you," he declined.

He turned to leave the store when another patron; a tall, college-aged kid, with partially shaven, purple hair; blocked his path. They were a few feet away from the door, and Mikey looked up at the intimidating figure slowly. Mikey's mind to race why a stranger had cornered him when he realized that this was probably one of those Goths who would beat up anyone who wasn't goth, just because Mikey had entered his personal space. He braced himself for some pummeling (something he was far too accustomed to) when instead, the guy actually spoke to him.

"Hey, you said you were tryin' to buy ectoplasm?" the guy whispered.

Mikey was taken aback. Had he heard his conversation with Spike? He must have, because otherwise, how would this guy know? Oh man, now Mikey was staring – what was he supposed to say? "Uhh, yeah?" he responded awkwardly.

He gave him an affirmative look, and grabbed Mikey's sleeve, pulling him aside into a nearby book aisle. "I probably shouldn't be doin' this," he started, "but I know a guy. He cleans up ghost attack damages in the city, so he comes across ectoplasm a lot. Officially, he's supposed to give it over to the government or something, but he keeps some of it for sale; I mean, it's not like they're gonna know how much is missing, right? I can hook you up with his number, but if you screw up or anything kid, you better not throw me under the bus, capiche?"

Once again, it took Mikey far too long to naturally answer. This guy... this guy actually was willing to help him! This guy actually had the solution to his mission! He was so baffled that he had to force himself to speak. "Yeah, yeah! Capiche," he sputtered.

So, the Goth kid gave him the man's phone number, and Mikey ended up calling him within the hour. He had a lot of questions about who Mikey was and why he wanted it, and Mikey had to explain that he was a High School student who was interested in doing some harmless experiments with it. The man was reluctant, wary that Mikey could be some kind of police officer trying to suspend his illegal transactions, but Mikey insisted. In fact, Mikey was first to suggest that they could meet up behind the Nasty Burger before school hours, out of the public eye. Sure, it was a little risky for him to trust a stranger who could be some kind of murderer or pedophile, but honestly, the chances of him getting hurt in a ghost attack were much higher than the chance of either of those scenarios, so he wasn't too worried about it. They discussed price, and Mikey ended up

And just like that, two days later, instead of taking the bus to school, he walked towards the Nasty Burger instead. He made sure to leave early, that way he could get the entire deal finished before his first class of the day. As someone who was near the top of his class, Mikey was deadly serious about his attendance record.

When he finally reached the Nasty Burger, there was a blue Toyota idle at the end of the back alley. When Mikey approached the alley, the car turned off, and a man no older than thirty opened the door. He was lanky with greasy brown hair and was wearing a reflective orange vest, most likely for his job as a clean-up worker.

"You Mikey?" he asked, raising a brow. "I thought you said you were in High School."

Mikey crossed his arms, trying and failing to seem not offended, "I am."

The man sighed, "Alright, kid. You got the money? We gotta make this fast 'cause apparently Phantom just got thrown into some antique store and I'm on call today."

The offhanded mention of Danny caught him off guard, but Mikey quickly made up for it by pulling out three twenty dollar bills. (The man had set the price at $30 per pint, and Mikey had decided to buy an entire quart.) He forked the money over, and the guy slipped the bills into his wallet.

"Okay," he said, "cool. I got it in my car, give me a second."

He walked over to his car, opened the backseat, and pulled out a small jug filled up to the top with a foul, green substance. Mikey didn't deny that for a moment that it was ectoplasm. He took the container (which was much heavier than he expected) and swiftly shoved it into his backpack, praying for the life of him that it wouldn't leak before he stored it in his locker for the day.

From there, they said courteous goodbyes, and both hurried to their school and job, leaving what happened in the alley behind them. For the entire day, he entrusted the ectoplasm in his locker, before subtly squeezing it back into his backpack once school let out. He didn't let anybody distract him from boarding the first bus to his house, running upstairs before either of his parents realized he was home, and locking his bedroom door.

Once he was alone in the sanctity of his room, he put the jug of ectoplasm on his desk, before turning around and rummaging under his bed until he found one of his old science kits he'd gotten back in middle school. It came with an actual medical syringe, which at the time Mikey hadn't seen any use for, but now it was exactly what he needed. He carefully opened the jug of the supernatural substance, and delicately filled up the syringe until it was completely full.

Without further ado, Mikey began the process of altering himself with ectoplasm to obtain a stable, hybrid form. He held the syringe in his right hand, pressed the dull needle against a vein on his left arm (he'd checked the Internet to make sure he was injecting in the correct place), and pressed, letting it dispense an ounce of pure ectoplasm into his bloodstream. He'd be lying if he said that it felt good, in fact, the ectoplasm sent nasty chills through his entire body, he could sense the invasion, and he had to physically restrain himself from tearing the needle out of his skin right then.

Once the first injection was done, Mikey hurriedly cleaned up everything, hiding the ectoplasm and instruments in a box under his bed so his family wouldn't find it. He was planning to buy some sort of safe for it soon, that way it was even more protected from any curious interlopers. Consequently, moments after he safely disposed of everything, a wave of fatigue hit him in the gut. Mikey wasn't a fool; he knew that until his body became accustomed with the ectoplasm, that he was going to have to face some unpleasant side effects. He expected this, therefore, he had everything under control.

This was voluntary, his own decision, and it wasn't even that bad. Yeah, he was just... tired. Really tired, kinda sweating, and _freezing_. He actually didn't know he could feel that cold internally, and wow, his eyes felt like... dumbbells. But that was okay! He'd just sleep awhile, wake up for dinner with his family, fall back asleep, and let his body deal with the consequences. And then, he'd inject some more and eventually build an endurance. It was a good plan, a solid plan.

He fell asleep immediately, and in his dreams, the reality of becoming a hero grew more coherent.

When he awoke, it was morning again, and he realized that his Mom must've not been able to wake him up to eat dinner. Oh well, it was just one meal, it's not like it was that important. He sat up and threw his legs over the side of his bed, and instantly he was overtaken by an urgent sense of nausea. He still felt cold, but he could feel the hot tug of his stomach; there was acid splashing around in there and it _hurt so much_! The sensation of someone scraping knives against his organs, poking and prodding, and that relentless acid – it was starting to creep up his throat, and then he was unable to hold it back and-

He lurched forward and vomited all over the carpet. He looked at it unimpressed and blanched. Thankfully, it was mostly water, since he hadn't eaten much yesterday, but there were still gross chunks of undigested food floating about.

Of course, at the perfect moment, his Mom walked in and witnessed his gross mess. She had to leave the room quickly and get his Dad since she was the sort of person who threw up at the sight of other people's puke. He cleaned it up, and after forcibly taking Mikey's temperature even though he had insisted he was fine, they decided that he was too sick to go to school. In a way, he was relieved, but not terribly so, since he knew that he might have these symptoms for a while, and he couldn't afford to let them hinder his education. But it was his parents' choice, so he stood in bed all day, against his will.

Well, not all day, actually. Once his parents had left for work, he found the ectoplasm under his bed again and gave himself another injection, the same amount as yesterday. He decided that he was going to try to schedule two injections a day (once in the morning, once at night) to fully recondition his body. He wasn't going to do this halfway; Mikey was going all in.

His parents kept him home for three days that week before Mikey convinced them that even though he was sick, he could still go to school. Of course, they hadn't wanted to let him go, but he wore them down with a little persuasion. While he was at school though, he almost wished that he had stayed home, because, for the first week, the injections continued to make him sick. He threw up more times than he could remember, he fell asleep in his classes (much to many of his teachers' shock), and fought a constant battle against dizziness. He probably injured himself more trying to stay balanced when walking around than any of the jocks did when they routinely beat him up.

And even though he was suffering, Mikey continued his injections. Morning after morning, and night after night. His supply was starting to wear thin, and he was getting worried because his body hadn't adjusted yet. However, somewhere around the twelfth day of his sick agony, his ill symptoms began to wade, and his stress was quelled. Actually, he was pretty elated; the disappearance of any negative health effects meant that his body was finally getting used to the ectoplasm in his system! This was the first proof that what he was doing to himself was working!

But around that same time, Mikey was faced with a new problem. Sure, he didn't feel sick anymore, but now he could feel his body almost start to... _crave_ , for lack of a better word, the injections. And he only had enough to last him about two more days and he had no idea what to do because he was sure that he could contact his supplier, but he didn't have enough money to actually pay for it. So that meant he had to find cash, and fast.

His parents were out of the question because they would ask too many questions, so that meant if he was going to borrow from someone else, he needed somebody who wouldn't ask why he needed money. And the best person for that probably was one of his close friends, Nathan or Lester. They would both provide for him in a heartbeat, but it was still going to be tricky since he didn't really want to admit what he was doing yet. They wouldn't understand his goal; if they knew what he was doing to himself, they would either try to do it with him or completely shut his operation down. Neither of those were viable situations, so he had to keep it a secret from them.

Mikey decided to ask Nathan first since he had a job, unlike Lester, and hoped that he didn't completely screw this up. He met the ginger boy in the band room since it was a fairly safe nerd territory that wouldn't be disrupted very easily.

"Hey, uh, Nathan?" he pondered. "I have a favor to ask for you, and well... you don't have to say yes. It's a no questions asked kind of favor, so..."

"A holy 'no questions asked'?" Nathan whispered. A few years ago, they had this deal in their friend group, that if one of them offered a 'no questions asked', then the other person could redeem a 'no questions asked' for the other person at any time. Currently, neither of them owed each other one, but now Mikey was opening a new chain of favors. So if Nathan agreed to give Mikey money, that meant that he could call on Mikey to do anything for him, whenever he wanted. "Wh – what are you asking me to do, then?"

"I need money," Mikey said. "Kind of pricey, though, so you don't have to do it. It's a serious thing, so I get that-"

"How much do you need?" Nathan asked. "I don't have a lot on me right now, 'cause I keep all my pizza money at home, but-"

"One-twenty," he blurted. "And I need it by tomorrow. So I get that if it's too much-"

"No," Nathan interrupted. "Th – that's fine, Mikey. If you come over to my house tonight, I can give you it later. I think I have enough. The other night I delivered pizza to Manson's house, and she always tips me really good, so..."

"You're a lifesaver," Mikey breathed. "Thank you, thank you _so much_ for this, dude. I really..." _need it_ – "appreciate it."

Later that night, Mikey found himself at Nathan's house playing video games and guiltlessly pocketing the cash that he asked for. He left Nathan without saying much more about it and called his supplier at the first opportunity that night. They agreed to meet behind the Nasty Burger again, and this time Mikey was going to buy a half-gallon instead of a quart. It was a hassle to bring twice as much ectoplasm to school and hide it, but Mikey managed to make it work.

The next few days after he restocked, Mikey slowly upped his daily dosage of ectoplasm to twice the amount. He felt confident that his body could handle it, and in fact, he could even feel that it was changing him somehow. Not in a bad way, he didn't think, but he felt more... powerful. Hungry. Hungry for what, he had no clue, but he liked the feeling, regardless of the potential repercussions.

After about four days after he had doubled his ectoplasm intake, Mikey finally decided to do some minimal measurements to see if his body had been altered yet. There were no definitive results, with the exception of his internal body temperature, which was about 94°F (34.4°C), and with some research, he learned that was technically a hypothermic temperature. To be frank, it didn't really surprise him, since he'd been cold ever since he'd started the injections. However, the main reason it didn't bother him, was because he'd heard that Danny's human temperature was normally about 70°F, so if Mikey's temperature was getting lower, that meant he was closer to being like Danny.

Another observation Mikey had about himself was that he also felt more confident and that with the power of ghosts constantly running within his veins, he felt like he could almost say and do anything. Mikey had always had some degree of social anxiety, ever since elementary school when the other kids made it clear that they didn't like him because he was a nerd. So, from that point in his life and beyond, Mikey had cut himself off and had become reclusive outside of his friend group. He would do the A-List favors here and there whenever they threatened him, and he never objected his place in the social hierarchy, because that would only result in him being beaten.

But now... something had chemically changed in his brain, for the better instead of the worse. This new confidence was almost like a Godsend, and Mikey wondered if this was what Danny felt like all the time. No wonder he was so heroic! This stuff, the ectoplasm, was empowering! Now, whenever he wanted to say something in class, Mikey just said it out loud, instead of just keeping his head down and being afraid. Now, whenever a jock tried to bully him, he fought back. Sure, he still wasn't physically strong or anything, but he still managed to punch Dale Bradford in the eye, giving him a shiner.

Mikey didn't even get detention or anything, because ever since Danny was revealed, he managed to pull some strings with the teachers, and bullying was treated as an _actual_ issue. And even though it was Mikey who injured Dale, there was no way the teachers weren't not going to take his side. Only a fool would stand up for someone as stupid and vulgar as Dale Bradford. Mikey was actually glad that he'd injured him because he sure deserved it.

Something else worth mentioning, that Mikey noticed probably about a week after the dosage increase, was that he was starting to crave meat more. It wasn't something he really realized right away until Lester pointed out that Mikey had spent all of his lunch money on multiple portions of the mystery meat. And nobody willingly ate the mystery meat.

The weirdest part was that Mikey hadn't even realized what he had done until someone else made him aware of it. But he didn't really care. Because, for some reason, Lester liked pointing unnecessary things out, which always kind of grated on Mikey's nerves. It wasn't something that nobody but Lester really cared about after all, because who should care that Mikey's eating the mystery meat? It's not anyone else's business.

Lester was just irritating like that sometimes, he supposed. But recently, it was like Lester (and Nathan too) were being a little more annoying than usual. Mikey knew it wasn't in his head or anything because it almost seemed like they were trying to do it, like they were testing him. For instance, their tendency to ask too many personal questions seemed to be a common nuisance whenever he hung out with them now. They'd be having a conversation about DND or something, and all of a sudden, they would ask him why he hadn't been playing Doom with them last night, and they would ask for way too many details that good friends wouldn't ask.

"Really dude," Nathan said, slowly sliding a greasy french fry into his mouth. Did he really have to it that slowly? That was a little freaky. "Why weren't you online? We always play together on Thursdays." He already knew that, why were you telling him this? "Did something come up? Did Sarah do something to like... sabotage your computer?"

"No," he gritted his teeth. They knew Sarah, his little sister, wasn't allowed in his room, so that was a stupid question. "I was just reading a book. Lost track of time."

He'd actually been working on calculations to see how long it would take him to become a half-ghost and independently produce his own ectoplasm. But that wasn't any of _their_ business.

"What book?" Lester asked, looking uncomfortably into Mikey's eyes. "Was it the one I recommended to you? Y'know, the one with the intergalactic dystopia where they discover the history of Earth and try to get to Earth and find out that it's pretty much a toxic wasteland, so then they-"

"It wasn't that," he cut him off. Couldn't they just leave him alone and believe his story? Did they really have to test him, try to find holes in his explanation? He'd said he was reading a book, why did they have to know more?

"Oh, what was it then?" Lester asked.

"Something for school. I don't know, one of the things Lancer has on his book list."

"Oh, really? Ew. Those are all 'classics'," Lester rolled his eyes. "I'll take a sci-fi thriller over anything Shakespearean any day. Lancer thinks all classics have to be practically indecipherable to read with all that 'thee' and 'thou' stuff. I don't like it."

And Mikey still didn't care.

Nathan laughed. "'Thee' and 'thou' stuff? Have you even read anything that doesn't have some kind of Princess Leia type character in it? You wouldn't know what to do with a book that doesn't have some kind of hot space babe as the protagonist's love interest. We all know that's the only reason you read those-"

"Is not!"

"Is too!" Nathan argued.

They continued to pointlessly bicker back and forth, screaming across the table, with Mikey in the verbal crossfire. Sitting there almost gave Mikey an aneurysm; Nathan had a habit of spitting when he spoke, and right now he was practically spouting out a fountain of saliva directly towards Mikey. It was gross, and Mikey didn't deserve to be spat at by someone who was arguing over such a juvenile topic, who couldn't even respect conversational nor physical boundaries.

Something snapped in Mikey, and that hum of power in his veins reacted. His fist burst forward and he punched Lester in the shoulder. The boy recoiled at the unexpected assault. "Wha-"

"You guys are being annoying," Mikey grumbled, before grabbing his things and leaving the table. It wasn't like staying there would do him any favors at the moment, so he might as well leave, right? It wasn't his fault that they were being so childish, that they weren't good enough for Mikey's standards at the moment.

Nathan and Lester looked at Mikey worriedly as he stormed off, not caring that it was against the rules to leave the cafeteria during lunchtime.

Mikey attended the rest of his classes without his friends since neither of them were in his classes at the end of the day. It was relieving for Mikey, for a while, until other people in his class also grew irritating. Like the girl in front of him, who kept chewing her nails, quite unattractively, at that, and taking her fingernail bites (which were painted glossy and red) out of her mouth to look at them, before sweeping them into the floor. It was kind of provoking, too, like she was daring Mikey to come and slap her for it. He was tempted, but seeing as they were in class, and hitting a girl was wrong, he refrained himself.

That day, when school finally let out, he planned to get on the bus, directly home, so he could do another injection. His arm was itching for another fix of ectoplasm, and it wasn't like he could stunt his progress, right?

That's what he wanted to do, though, not actually what happened. Instead, when Mikey returned to his locker to grab his bag before boarding the school bus, Nathan was standing there, waiting for him.

"Hey," Nathan started.

Mikey was almost content with ignoring him, after the stupid thing earlier, but decided to humor him. "Hey."

"Are you okay?" Nathan asked. "These past few days... you haven't exactly been yourself, per se..."

Ugh, Mikey hated when people said 'per se'. It was such a pretentious sounding expression, and like, nobody _ever_ spelled it correctly.

"I'm fine," Mikey replied, distastefully. He turned the dial to his locker. "Better than ever, actually."

"You sure?"

Again, with the unnecessary questions. You've already said it once, why do you have to say it multiple times?

"Absolutely," he barked, grabbing his backpack, and slamming his locker shut with a violent BANG.

"Mikey..." Nathan took his sweet time drawing out the two syllables that made up his name. "What did you use the money I gave you for?"

"That's a ' _no questions asked_ '," Mikey hissed. "We agreed that I don't have to tell you."

"True," Nathan shrugged. He adjusted his glasses as if to mask his nervousness. "So I'm just gonna out and ask it. What drug was it? Heroin?"

Mikey stared at him, blankly. "What?"

Nathan's eyes darkened, "I can tell when someone's shooting up. I'm not an idiot. You hear about those kids, the ones who actually do that kind of stuff, but I never thought... I never thought it'd be _you_ , Mikey."

"I'm not doing fucking heroin," Mikey whispered. He was never one to swear, but he would do it occasionally, to emphasize his point. "... that's a load of shit."

"Really?" Nathan crossed his arms. "So if you're saying that if I looked at your arms right now, there wouldn't be any needle marks."

"No," Mikey said. He didn't consciously lie, but he wouldn't admit to doing heroin, nor ectoplasm, so he would just have to deny both. "None at all."

Nathan narrowed his eyes. "You disappoint me, Mikey. I've already seen them, earlier when you took your jacket off. For someone trying to hide it, you're really doing a weak job."

"No," Mikey said. "You've got it all wrong."

"Mind to correct me then?" Nathan asked rhetorically. "I don't need your admission, Mikey. All I have to do is tell your parents. And there's nothing you can do to stop me because I care about you, and I'm not letting you go down this path."

"It's not heroin," Mikey found himself saying. He didn't know where this was coming from, but he didn't do anything to stop it. "It's something else. Hell, it's not even a drug. But it's something that's going to turn me great, something that will make me just as good as Danny. You can fucking try to tell my parents or the teachers, but they won't find any heroin, because you were right, Nathan, I'm not the type to do stuff like that. Besides, before you accused me, did you even do any research about any of the other effects of heroin? That shit fucks you up, and if you haven't noticed, I'm flourishing lately. So if you don't mind," he grabbed Nathan's shoulder, shoving the baffled boy into the lockers, "stay out of my business. This was a no questions asked."

When Mikey finally made it to the school bus loading zone, the bus was already long gone. He'd missed it, meaning that he'd have to walk home instead. He let out a scream of frustration. Was the world just against him today? It just wasn't fair! He really needed to inject more ectoplasm, and soon, Goddamn it!

He started his trek back home, and tediously kicked rocks off the sidewalk in bitter silence. After a few minutes, he passed by some old laundromat, and this deadly looking, feral cat began following him. At first, sure, she was kind of cute, and she reminded Mikey of the cat he used to have before it died in middle-school. But then, _this cat_ opened it's mouth to meow, and then decided that it didn't want to shut up like it was in heat or something. No matter how much he screamed at it to go away, it just kept following him, with it's loud, insistent meowing that never ceased.

Eventually, he experienced the same furious sensation that he'd experienced at lunch, and the power within him lashed out. All Mikey could see was red (all he could hear were those "meow"s!) and he brought his leg over to the cat's stomach and kicked. He kicked it over and over _and over_... until it finally shut up and stopped moving. By the time he stopped, it's chest was still moving, unconscious, but definitely alive. It seemed like such an irksome matter, that it was still alive. It was such a futile, inferior creature, that certainly didn't have a right to believe compared to him. He _wanted_ to kill it.

And honestly, Mikey was so close to finishing it's pathetic lifespan – _such a nuisance_ – it would just be easiest to kill it. But, despite the power inside of him goading him on, Mikey held back. He resisted the urge to take an innocent thing's life ( _but it's not innocent; it was annoying me!_ ) and walked away. He finished his walk to his house, and barricaded himself inside of the house, distancing himself from the cat's broken body, in case he changed his mind...

"Mikey?" his Mom called out when he had stepped into the foyer. "Are you home?"

"Yeah," he reluctantly mumbled. He just needed to go to his room, get his injection-

She appeared from the kitchen, hair up in a bun today, and smiled. She walked forwards, "Did you have a good day, today, sweetie?" she trapped him in a hug.

He almost felt like gagging. This was irrelevant.

"No," he broke himself out of her grasp and swatted her away. It hadn't been a good day because he hadn't gotten his injection yet!

"Why not?" the look of concern on her face wasn't worth much to him.

"Shut up," he told her, and without any more hassle, he charged upstairs to his room, once again. As usual, he locked the door, brought his instruments out from under the bed, and let the ectoplasm slide easily into his arm, like honey. It was his only true ally, the only thing that wasn't against him today, the only thing that could make him a hero. It would make him like Danny.

Tired from all of the pointless conflict, Mikey fell into bed and passed out for quite a few hours. This time, he didn't dream about his future as a hero, but rather, dreamt nothing.

When he awoke at 7 PM, he found himself in front of a mirror, changing into his pajamas. But when he examined his reflection, he actually looked at it for the first time in a while. He hadn't really realized it before, but his eyes had developed visible red flecks among his normal hazel green. That and his ears were slightly elongated, like some sort of fantastical elf. He grinned at himself, reveling in the changes to his appearance. This was more progress; this meant that it was working.

His success was short-lived, however, because, by his calculations, he would be out very soon. He knew that Nathan's money wasn't going to provide for him forever, and now he had to find another solution. Lester wasn't an option this time, because chances are, Nathan had probably already warned him not to give Mikey anything. But this time, their help didn't matter because he wasn't holding back. He _was_ going to get what he needed, regardless of whether it was a conventional method or not. He was Michael Walsh, and he could do anything he wanted with ease. So, he'd just steal some money, it couldn't be that hard, right?

After some observation of his peers, Mikey decided that his easiest target would probably be someone in his gym class because it's not unusual for people to leave their belongings lying around unguarded. In fact, Mikey realized that the best person to steal from would actually be Kwan since he always left his locker unlocked because he was too fucking stupid to actually remember a combination. It was almost like Kwan gave him the money, it was so easy! Mikey waited for everyone to leave the locker room for class, and just walked up to his locker, found his wallet, and took all the cash that was there. And since Kwan was a rich jock, that was a lot of dough for a high school student, over $200. This was probably like his allowance or something, so Mikey doubted he would even miss it. He pocketed the money without a moment's guilt.

Later, at lunch, Mikey wanted to roll his eyes at Kwan's overt crying. Apparently, he was getting all pissy because his grandfather had given that money before he got put into assisted living or something and he didn't know how to tell his family that he'd lost it. The A-Listers and everyone else was practically eating the story up. Jeez, Kwan was such a melodramatic bitch for someone so privileged. If he actually did care about that money, he wouldn't be carrying around with him for no reason; he would've locked it up somewhere. But Mikey digressed, it didn't really matter what Kwan had and hadn't done, because now Mikey had the money he needed, and nothing else mattered.

He bought more ectoplasm, a full gallon this time, so hopefully, it would last him a little longer than the two previous purchases. He also decided to increase the dosage to three times the original amount, because the more the better, right?

After he took the money from Kwan, both Nathan and Lester stopped talking with him and sitting with him at lunch, and moved to a table with some of the Sophomore nerds instead. Mikey figured that they knew what he had done, but since he hadn't gotten in trouble yet, they were probably too weak to actually report him to anyone. All the better, since Mikey didn't want to deal with the school, Kwan, and his parents asking him questions, especially since it wasn't any of their business.

Nothing would stop Mikey from emerging the hero he strove to be. Definitely not those pussy-like fools, Nathan and Lester. They were annoying and immature, and once he became half-ghost, they would regret _ever_ leaving him. But he didn't want them back, because he was already better than them, everything about Mikey was better than them. They'd see. _Everyone would._

* * *

Danny's life had taken a turn ever since he revealed his secret, a turn for the better in some ways, and a turn for the worse in others. He didn't have to lie as much, and people in school and in Amity Park respected him in both forms now, so that was good. He wasn't exactly comfortable with his fans yet, so that was a little weird at times, but every day got a little better. His social reputation was in it's prime, and nobody (not even _Dash_ ) dared to try to offend or belittle him. All of it was pretty surreal.

His schoolwork was easier too, since the teachers had met with him and his parents to discuss his educational opportunities, and they'd decided on a system where Danny was only required to turn in his big assignments, but if necessary, he could opt to do some of the smaller assignments to keep his grades balanced.

No, what was really harder was the increase in ghost activity. Now that the ghosts knew that Amity Park knew, and after everything that had happened, it was like the bounty on Danny's head (literally, in Walker's case) had been raised tenfold. They attacked the town at least ten times a day at _minimum_ , which was a large step up because before the reveal the average number of daily ghost attacks was around three or four.

He had to leave in the middle of class frequently, which was always a hassle because now he had to inform the teacher and take off his Ecto-Suppressant band. The Ecto-Suppressant band was a bracelet that kept him from using his powers during school, since legally he was prohibited from using any of his abilities, no matter how harmless, because in the eyes of the government they were still technically a 'weapon'.

So Danny was having to balance a lot more on his plate, despite the fact that his social and academic lives were easier. This meant that he was a lot more strained during school, and often failed to notice the little things unless they troubled him directly...

Somewhere around the third month of school, Danny started experiencing abnormalities with his ghost sense. It was like... he would start to have a ghost sense, he would feel the telltale chill inside his lungs, but the feeling would disappear before he could breathe it out. But the odd thing was, that it only occurred during school, and only during some of his classes. And lately, he was getting it a lot; at least multiple times a day. Before, he'd just been ignoring it because he hadn't thought it was relevant, but now Danny was actually starting to look around when it happened.

And then, one time Danny looked up, and he saw it. It was just an ordinary day, and nobody was doing anything that wasn't normal, but when Danny felt the partial ghost sense, he scanned the classroom and saw that right in front of him, Mikey was walking by his desk. And Mikey... Mikey's skin was _green_.

It wasn't that visible, it was just sort of a green tint, but with Danny's enhanced vision, it was clear as day. There was something that was causing the pigment in Mikey's skin to turn it green, and paired with Danny's inexplicable partial ghost sense... that could only mean one thing: ectoplasm.

Mikey was undoubtedly tainted with trace amounts of ectoplasm, and apparently, it was enough to alert Danny's ghost sense without actually triggering it. Danny had no idea what could be causing it and knew that he had to find out what it was, immediately.

After class, he found Mikey by his locker and decided to confront him. Ectoplasmic poisoning was a serious matter and Danny couldn't let this go overlooked.

"Hey Mikey," he greeted. Mikey was turned around, looking for something in his locker, but Danny could sense the surprise on the other boy's face without having to see it. "Can I uh... talk to you?"

Danny really didn't want to have this conversation in the hallway, surrounded by other people, who were definitely watching them, but he didn't have any other choice. It would be even more suspicious if Danny and Mikey went somewhere to talk in private, so the best place to have this encounter was here.

"You're talking to _me_?" Mikey asked, steadily. Danny noted that Mikey didn't really seem nervous, which was unequivocally different than the anxious habits he was known for.

"Yeah, uh," he said. "I kind of have something to ask you. Something important."

There was something guarded in Mikey's expression. Danny knew that look. He had perfected that look when he had to keep his secret. "What is it?"

"Have you come into any contact with any ghosts? Well, or anything ectoplasmic that could be hurting you?"

"No," Mikey said, carefully. "Not at all." He kept his shoulders broad and open, which suggested that he was being truthful, but the coldness in his eyes suggested otherwise. Danny had spent so much time lying that it was hard not to recognize when somebody was being deceitful.

"Are you sure?" Danny asked.

"Completely sure. I know that the other ghosts are dangerous," he nodded. Danny recognized when he tried to flip it from defense to offense, "Why are you asking?"

"No reason," Danny shrugged. "It's just... you kind of seemed like you might have something going on. Nothing to worry about, I think I was just wrong."

Danny knew that he hadn't been wrong; there was seriously something going on with Mikey and both of them knew it. And Danny also knew that Mikey wouldn't tell him the truth no matter how many different ways he asked. So for now, the best thing would be to let this go and just observe for anything strange.

"Oh, okay," Mikey said. "Well, thanks for looking out, I guess. But I'm fine."

"No problem," Danny smiled. He left Mikey there and rejoined Sam and Tucker, who were waiting just a few feet away.

"What was that about?" Sam asked.

"There's something wrong with Mikey," he said quietly, in case anyone else was trying to listen in. "Something ghost wrong, and he isn't telling me the truth. I don't know what it is exactly, but it's not good, and I don't know why he's lying to me."

"Well, that's uh..." she said. "Not good?"

"Yeah," Danny agreed. "We need to keep an eye on him. He won't tell me what's going on, so there's nothing I can do right now, but we need to watch him, just in case."

"Wait," Tucker interjected suddenly. "What type of ghostly thing is it? Like how'd you find out something is wrong?"

"His skin looks green, and whenever I'm around him I've been getting my ghost sense, but not fully. It disappears before I can breathe it out, but I still feel it. So I think he has a form of light ectoplasmic poisoning."

"Ectoplasmic poisoning?" Tucker's eyes widened. "No... no way. Sam, do you remember a few months ago?"

"A few months ago what?" she asked.

"Right... you were out of it then. Sleep deprivation. Well, at the beginning of the school year, Mikey was asking me about where he could get ectoplasm for experiments or something. I told him that it was too dangerous and that he should forget about it, but..."

None of them said anything. They were all thinking along the same lines of horror.

"So we're definitely keeping an eye on him, then?" Sam asked, weakly.

"Yeah, _for sure_."

* * *

"Mikey?" Sarah, his irritating sister, opened the door to his room.

"What?" he spat. He was trying to figure out how to this stupid-ass math homework, and he couldn't be interrupted over trivial things.

Sarah looked down at her feet nervously, adjusted her glasses, and dragged herself next to her brother's desk. "I was just... wondering if you're okay?" she said, quietly.

"What kind of a fucking question is that?" he asked, rhetorically. He didn't have time to worry about the moral consequences of cussing at his ten-year-old sister. She was just being a bother to him, invading his personal privacy, and wasting his time.

"I just..." her voice broke. "Mom and Dad have talked about how they're worried about you, and you've been acting kind of different lately."

"So? I have," Mikey said, "I'm actually more confident. Why do they have a problem with that? I'm doing great and I'm still staying on top of my school work, so logically it's pointless to worry over something that's beneficial to me."

"I don't think you're okay, though," Sarah said, softly.

"Who gives a shit?" he growled, pointing his pencil at her. Couldn't she just leave him alone?

"I care about you," she said. "I know I don't act like it, but I don't think that this is good for-"

"There's nothing to care about, why are you wasting my time, you worthless bitch!" he stood up from his desk, towering over her by at least a foot.

There was fear in her eyes but maintained where she stood. "I _hear_ you," she emphasized. "I hear you crying in your sleep. I _know_ something's wrong!"

Mikey didn't hesitate for a moment when he shoved her back into his wall. The hopeless brat was crying now and he just wanted to hurt her again. Those tears were obnoxious, and if she wasn't related to him, he probably would've done it just to shut her up.

"That's none of your business," he hissed. "There's _nothing_ wrong with me. I'm great. Now, get out of my space!"

At those words, she screamed. A terrible scream, one coated in multiple layers of horror, and while the fear he incited within her was exhilarating, it didn't make her screaming any less annoying. He didn't even understand why she was screaming so loud until she tilted her head, and he could see a reflection of two red eyes burning in her glasses. His eyes were glowing red.

Sarah clumsily scrambled outside of his bedroom and didn't turn back.

Mikey knew that he couldn't stop now, it was working better than ever, and those red eyes of his... those red eyes will be the eyes of a hero, soon enough. He can't wait to make people respect him (like Danny), he can't wait to be famous (like Danny), he can't wait to be powerful (like Danny), and he can't wait to make ghosts fear him (like Danny). He can't wait until he's _just like Danny_.

That night at dinner, nobody in his family really talked much. Sarah wouldn't make eye contact with him, and neither of his parents went out of their way to interact with him too much. It was probably like Sarah said, they were worried about him, and after his sister had come out of his room screaming, they probably had no idea what to do. He liked that; he didn't want anybody to talk to him. Actually, he didn't even really want to be there, at the table, since he didn't even feel hungry. He was just uselessly pushing his food around, not eating any of it. So a few minutes into their silent meal, he gave up and just left, choosing to go upstairs and fall asleep instead.

Sleeping came to him naturally now, it was never difficult to doze off when before he started the injections it would take him at least five minutes to pass out. Now, he could fall asleep at a second's command. Which he did, effortlessly.

He woke up in a cold sweat in the middle of the night, which was something that usually never happened. Typically, when he woke up, it was because of his alarm clock, but for some reason, he had woken up on his own tonight. He looked at his digital clock and read that it was a little past 2 AM. And then he felt it, a dull pain lingering within him. His stomach hurt. Really, _really_ bad.

He was hungry. Probably because he hadn't eaten dinner, but it wasn't his fault that nothing had looked appetizing to him.

He stumbled down to the kitchen, threw open the fridge, and rummaged around for something that he could eat. Nothing there smelled or looked good, in fact, it all smelled rotten and gross, like it'd been sitting around for too long. Everything was too dead, even the fruits. He wanted something that was fresher.

He slammed the fridge shut and opened the freezer instead. There was a package of frozen raw meat, and it smelled delicious. He was eating that, he decided, and he tore it open, not even minding that it wasn't thawed enough to chew. He swallowed most of it in large chunks, enjoying the juiciness it exerted as it melted in his mouth. In less than five minutes, Mikey had eaten the entire package and was happily full for the night. He went back up to his bedroom and fell asleep until the next morning, when he habitually injected, and left for school.

He felt better than ever that day, it was almost like the meat from the night before had rejuvenated him. He walked through the halls, head up, not giving a damn about the people around him. He was superior to all of them (except Danny, his hero) and he wasn't going to be afraid of any of them, not even the jocks who thought that they were better than him.

And in the midst of this thought process, irony struck, and a disgruntled cheerleader, Star, accidentally bumped into his shoulder and spilled her hot latte all over him. The coffee ran all the way down Mikey's shirt, leaving his skin red and irritated from the heat, and without much thought, Star dropped the cup. Both of them wore identical expressions of shock, and the entire hallway froze with anticipation.

"Mikey, I'm sorry-"

Mikey's fist connected with her gut before she even had a chance to attempt an apology. He was livid; how _dare_ she! How dare she, how dare she, how dare she! The unexpected punch had more force than Mikey knew he had in him, and it sent Star crumpling to the floor.

 _Good_ , he thought. And unbeknownst to him, his eyes adopted a murderous, glowing red glare. His anger wasn't satisfied by the single harsh motion of violence – he wanted more. He started kicking Star while she was on the ground, very much like with the cat, causing the blonde girl to erupt in screams of terror and pain. Every kick felt justified, felt like bliss, and he was happy to indulge in those feelings. At some point, she started bleeding and her blood made it even more rewarding.

Most of the students in the hall fled to the walls, distancing themselves from the manic boy, but those with braver hearts took action. Dash and Kwan surged forward, going to pull Mikey away from Star so he could stop harming her, but Mikey refused to be restrained. Dash tried pulling Mikey away by wrapping his arms around the smaller boy's waist, but Mikey writhed against Dash, using his foot to kick Star and using his hands to scratch his nails into Dash's face. Kwan tried to help Dash pull Mikey away but grabbing onto Mikey's shoulder, but Mikey retaliated by biting Kwan's arm. When Mikey pulled away there were teeth marks in his skin and he was bleeding.

Meanwhile, Danny had just arrived at school, only to walk into a big fight with Dash and Kwan holding Mikey back, with Star screaming on the floor. Both Kwan and Star were bleeding, and Mikey... oh Ancients, Mikey's eyes were red. Ghostly red.

Danny entered the fray of fighting without transforming or removing his Ecto-Suppressant band, pushed through Dash and Kwan, and grabbed Mikey firmly. Mikey was struggling in his grip, but the fierce red-head was no match for Danny's naturally enhanced strength. He pulled him away from all of the other humans, including the bystanders, and held him against an empty wall. He used one hand to keep Mikey firmly pressed against the wall, and managed to slip his Ecto-Suppressant band with his free hand. The bracelet fell to the floor, and Danny was free to use his powers to resolve this situation. Normally, he wasn't allowed to use his powers to break up run-of-the-mill fights, but Danny figured given Mikey's current state, that this could be classified as an 'ectoplasmic emergency'.

He took Mikey's leg, and with some resistance, he managed to phase the boy's appendage into the wall, thoroughly trapping him. He could hear everyone behind him shift with some sort of relief as the gossiping began.

"What's wrong with him...?" someone asked.

"Intense as fuck. His eyes-"

"Red."

"Overshadowed...?" someone who sounded a lot like Valerie wondered.

Everyone else seemed to believe that Mikey was overshadowed, and they seemed to be preparing for some fight between Danny and the ghost they thought was inhabiting the other boy. Danny knew better than to think that. He knew that this wasn't some other ghost. Hell, he had suspected that something was going on, and he _should've_ acted before it escalated to this. But it was too late now, and now he was the one who was expected to fix it.

"Dash, Kwan," Danny called out, stepping up the leader position, as he typically did, "can you two take Star to the nurse?" Wait, no. "Actually, no, Dash and... you," he pointed to another jock, "take her? Since Kwan is also bleeding."

"Yeah," Dash's voice was higher than usual but affirmative. "We can do that, Danny."

"Thanks," Danny nodded, turning back to Mikey.

Dash and the other jock carried Star away, followed by Kwan, who was still holding his bleeding arm. Then, a Freshman girl who Danny didn't recognize stepped forward.

"Is he overshadowed?" she asked. She seemed nervous. He didn't know if she was nervous because of what had just happened, or if just was nervous talking to him.

"No," Danny replied. "This isn't overshadowing. This is actually him. He's corrupted by ectoplasm. I don't know how he..."

Danny froze. During the fight, Mikey's jacket had fallen off, and now his arm was exposed, and even though the irritated skin was mostly healed, he could see the marks. Before, Danny had known that Mikey was aware he was poisoned by ectoplasm, but he never thought to really consider that maybe Mikey was doing it to himself because he wanted to.

He stepped forward again, over to the boy who was struggling to escape the wall. Danny took his arm and looked at it closer just to be sure that he was seeing what he thought he was seeing. And yep, those were definitely needle marks.

"You _idiot_ ," he breathed. He said it quietly, but there was no way that the rest of the hall couldn't hear him. "Didn't you know what this could do to you? You could _die_ from this Mikey, what were you thinking?"

Mikey's voice was jarring and fierce, "If dying is what it takes, then I'll do it. I need the ectoplasm. I _need_ to be like you!"

Those words sent chills down Danny's spine. _'I need to be like you_ '. The other students were also intrigued by Mikey's admission, though, the considerably understood less than Danny.

Danny found himself hesitating, "What the hell are you talking about?"

Mikey's smile was an angry smile, a relentless one. "I need to have powers like you! I need to be strong like you!" He sounded longing and desperate. "I need to be a hero..."

"Mikey... I..." Danny was floored, "you don't want to be like me. Being half-ghost isn't something that anyone should want." And Danny meant it. Right now he was comfortable with what he was, but he definitely had his share of suffering. Being a halfa was an indescribable amount of suffering that nobody in their right might would seek-

Yet, Mikey was intolerant. "You're lying," he spat, "because you don't want me to be like you, you want to special, but if I were like you, I'd be better!"

Was that really what Mikey thought of him? That Danny wanted to be special? Sure, that's what Sam always told Danny, that he was special, and maybe in a way it was true, but that didn't mean it was necessarily good

"I..." his mouth was unnaturally dry. Danny turned to the crowd of students eagerly listening behind him. "I want all of you to leave."

And as he predicted, most of the kids resisted.

"What! No way, dude!"

"We want to hear this!"

To everyone else this was a show, it was drama. They didn't actually care about Mikey, they just wanted to see what would happen next.

Danny felt his eyes glow green. " _Now_ ," he hissed.

A few people left at his warning, however, a few of the more stubborn teenagers refused to move. Thankfully, Sam, who was standing in the crowd, backed him up.

"If you don't all leave, I'll personally report you to Principal Ishiyama for loitering, and put a curse on each and every one of you," she threatened. Even though he was the one with the powers, Danny had a reputation for being the nice guy. Sam, on the other hand, never went back on her word and would do anything to get back at someone. So at her cue, the rest of the stragglers cleared out, only leaving Team Phantom and Mikey himself.

"Why'd you make everyone go away?" Mikey asked, kicking his free leg against his trapped leg, still trying to escape.

Danny sighed, "I'm only going to say this once, but can you please listen to me, and keep an open mind?"

Mikey only growled in response, at a loss of what to say. Taking that as sort of a 'yes', Danny started his explanation.

"Look, Mikey, you don't want to be a halfa, and you don't want the responsibilities of a hero."

"Yeah, I do-"

Danny ignored him, and resumed talking, "Sure, it sounds all cool and whatever, but it hurts. _A lot_. Being a hybrid is scary because people are always coming after you, trying to capture you for experiments and fighting you for the challenge of it. The GIW is still trying to pass laws that say they can detain me, and I'm scared that one day it'll actually happen, and they'll keep me as a lab rat, but for now, all I can do is try to look good in the public's eye and ignore it.

"Then there are the ghosts who target the town because of me all the time, which I have to fight because it's my fault they're here, and then I get hurt from it. Do you know how much it hurts being thrown into the concrete from fifty feet in the air, or what it's like to destabilize into literal goo when you get too weak? Bullets? Ectoblasts?"

"But you're strong," Mikey said, obviously.

"I am," Danny agreed, "but pain is pain. And then I have to come to school and deal with everyone always in my personal space because I'm some sort of celebrity, and it never stops, so I just have to pretend like I'm okay with it, even when people overstep every inch of my life and make me uncomfortable. Even though I'm doing better since the reveal, it's still frustrating that I can't be a normal student, that I have to depend on so much support to get the minimal requirement of work done.

"And aside from all the physical pain, there's the mental pain. The anxiety I get at night, from knowing what I am, and how different I am. You might think it sounds 'cool', but being practically your own species is isolating and frustrating, and just when I try to decide what I am, everything restarts, and then I have to cope with the fact that underneath it all I'm just some half-dead freak pretending to be okay, when I'm not, and that logically speaking... I probably would be the perfect experiment, I mean, it's not like I'm human. So Mikey, please don't try to be like me. I don't want you to have an existence like mine, because this should be my burden to bear, nobody else's."

Mikey looked he wanted to cry, but it was like something in him was restraining him from shedding tears. Danny's admission had spoken to something in him beyond his corrupted mindset.

His voice shook, "I just feel so... angry, and violent. I want to be powerful..."

"That's the ectoplasm making you think that," Danny explained. "I don't know where you found it, but if you try to make your body adapt to it... it can seriously corrupt your brain. It also depends on what ghost the ectoplasm came from, assuming that it's not purified. If it came from any of the malevolent ghosts I fight, then that'd screw you up even more."

"But how come it didn't do that to you?" he asked.

Danny sighed again. Here we go. How to tell him without telling him too much about how halfas become halfas?

"My accident was different," he ventured carefully. "I didn't become Phantom because I got exposed to ectoplasm, I got this way because I started to die while large amounts of ectoplasm were being infused with my DNA. It's not really something that's easy to recreate."

Mikey was silent for a few seconds, and he could hear Sam and Tucker moving behind him. Sam whispered something about leaving to go get Principal Ishiyama, and moments later, she walked away. Her footsteps echoed loudly down the hall.

"Danny..." Mikey's voice cracked, "what if I don't want to stop doing this to myself?"

"What do you mean?" he asked. "Injection isn't going to make you half-ghost, I can guarantee that it'll just make you corrupted up until the point you die from ecto-poisoning."

"I think I'm addicted to it," Mikey admitted slowly. "I don't think I can stop if I tried. Even if you took it away from me, I feel like I'd go crazy and hurt somebody if I don't have it."

"Well, you went crazy and hurt somebody _with_ it, so..." Tucker interrupted.

"We can set up a detox at FentonWorks," Danny decided.

Mikey stared at him, "What?"

"My parents can set up a quarantine," he suggested, "and it'll only take a few days for most of the ectoplasm to get out of your system with the help of a few counter drugs."

He put his hand on Mikey's shoulder, trusting that the other boy wouldn't try to fight his touch, "We can help you, Mikey," he declared.

When he finally spoke, Mikey's voice was small. "Will it hurt? Going back to normal? After all of this?"

Danny looked him directly in the eyes, seeing beneath him. There was no way that the detox _wouldn't_ hurt him.

"I don't know," he lied, gently. "Maybe."


End file.
